


My name is Andruil

by Cloudywind



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 06:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudywind/pseuds/Cloudywind
Summary: The Dalish has a very interesting, and barmy innocent fairy tale of me. They said I am one of Mythal's daughter, the goddess of hunt who watched over the animals and taught the elves to hunt with respect. Supposedly, I also taught them how to use fire, heal with herbs and magic, and spin fibers into ropes. Like I said, fairy tale.





	1. What do you mean Mythal is dead?

Her palms pressed hard on the edge of the old oak table. Her brows furrowed. Andruil had been staring at the map for so long, she could almost remember the exact placement of all her troops, the exact number of soldiers in each troop. Actually she could, even this war had been burning for seven hundred and eighty over years. She was weary, sick of it. Yet she still could not see the end of it.

"Ma Raj, I have news on Mythal." Her messenger barged into the tent. Andruil looked up, already having a rancid taste in her mouth when she saw the agitation so evident on his face. "What is it?"

"She's... the beloved Mythal is dead." He lowered his head, couldn't stand staring at her burning glare.

"What do you mean she's dead?" She screamed, with a trembling voice. She was certain she must have heard it wrong.

"T-They lured her into a trap, and they... they killed her." The messenger stuttered, his head still lowered.

"Ghesten!" She hit her fist so hard on the table, all the troop markers bounced off and landed on the ground. The messenger dropped onto his knees, his body shuddering. When Andruil is furious, she would kill someone. And she is burning in rage now.

"What happened to her troops, her people?" She hissed, gritting her teeth.

"Most of them were killed. Slaughtered. But I heard some ran into the adahlen in inorteralas."

Andruil growled and waved him off. The messenger hastily departed, almost stumbled at the exit, too grateful to be alive.

She would never expect things to fall so apart. She could not even remember the reason for the breaking up of the hahrentuathe, for the Evanuris to split into two groups, one led by Elgar'nan and the other by Mythal, and finally for the civil war to start. She only remembered it was something frivolous. But no matter how frivolous a matter is, if left unattended for a long enough time, it will brew into a disaster. In this case, a civil war that lasted too long and killed too many.

She gazed at the map again. Her decision was made. She would lead her troops northwest to meet Dirthamen. She did not forget that Fen'Harel's resistance troops were at her tail. But Mythal's death would not be forgiven. And she needed to kill someone. Lots of someone.

Andruil put on her armor and grabbed her bow and arrows. As she stepped out of her tent, she muttered. "Sul'ama em lanun'ven'ur'alas, Mythal."


	2. Fen'Harel! How dare you hunt my halla!

"Fen'Harel, Fen'Harel. How dare you hunt my halla in my forest." Andruil grazed her fingers along the jawline of the captured elf. Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. He thought he could escape the huntress's notice, he thought he was quick and cautious enough. He just didn't expect to fall into her trap. And now he is all tied up to an ironbark tree, his limbs and body bound by the vines she invoked from the earth.

"I was hungry, and the food just... leapt in front of me." A smug grin spread across the Dread Wolf's face.

"What a tongue you have." The huntress scoffed.

"Which could be put to other use. Other... better use, if my limbs were not tied." Fen'Harel smirked. This is their dance. He knew she would never hurt him, not too much. And she knew she would let him get away with whatever mischief he did.

"Oh?" She smiled, her fingers rested on his lips. "Then perhaps I shall tie you to my bed, have you serve me for... say one year and a day, to pay for my halla? Hama i em, dera em, dava em, dhava em?"

"I will even bite you if you allow." His grin widened.

"Ga era'vun?" The huntress teased sultrily, walking closer.

"Starting from tonight. If you're up to it." The wolf replied impishly, his breath on her face.

"Funny that you are the one saying that, telam fen..." Andruil was sliding her fingers down his chest when they were interrupted by a low livid voice from behind. "Fen'Harel! Ar dalemah ma!"

Andruil turned around abruptly and grunted. "Really? Anaris? Now?"

The towering dark god groaned, his hand tight on the hilt of his behemothic sword. "Andruil, give the damned wolf to me! He shall pay for what he has done to my brethren!"

"Sure! If you were to come back one year later." She folded her arms across her chest, smirking.

"You won't dare!"  
"Try me."

"Or the both of you can have a duel. The winner takes me." Fen'Harel suggested nonchalantly.

"A duel it is then!" The dark god agreed without hesitation, so did the huntress, not wanting the Forgotten One to think that she was afraid of him. Anaris was strong and many had died from just one slash from his sword. But Andruil was quick and his sword was heavy. Andruil danced around him deftly, showering him with her arrows. A few landed on his arms and legs, but Anaris was sturdy and he would just pull her arrows out with a little groan.

The fight continued till the first ray of dawn formed in the sky and both fighters were weary. They still could not break each other's defense but by then someone else figured it out. Fen'Harel had been observing the fight and he spotted a hole in Andruil's defense. Literally, a gap in Andruil's armor. "Anaris! Hit above her hip!"

Andruil was stunned by the Dread Wolf's yelling but before she could attempt to block, the dark god's sword cut through her side. With a scream, she stumbled back. Blood spurting out of her side, she dropped down against a tree. Anaris held his sword up, ready for the last strike when Fen'Harel yelled again. "Hey Anaris! Forgotten something? Like freeing the one who helped you before you turned into a porcupine?"

"I didn't need your help!" Enraged, Anaris lowered his sword and turned to walk back to Fen'Harel. "More like forgetting to kill you first!" It was then Andruil took her chance. With her trembling hand, she grabbed the last arrow and drawing a deep breath, she aimed and shot at Anaris' back. The golden arrow dug deep into Anaris' back and he got down with a deafening growl, just inches away from Fen'Harel.

Andruil's lips curled up into a grin as she lowered her bow. Her injury was critical and she could not move without risking bleeding out. As the morning sun rose, she had to watch Fen'Harel chewed through the vines and ran away with a smirk. But her grin did not faltered. "Another time, Fen'Harel."


	3. I treat my people as people, not slaves!

"We need to stop this wolf! Dala ish!" June barged through the door and stomped to his seat, his face red and flustered. Mythal whispered to the servant to bring water to him.

"On dhea to you too, June." Andruil smirked, leaning back on her seat with her arms folded across her chest, earning a livid glare from the Master of Crafts.

"What happened now, June?" Elgar'nan heaved a sigh from the end of the table. He was not pleased that June was late for the hahrentuathe meeting, but the elf appeared to have a reason for it.

June gritted his teeth and took a big gulp from the glass of water the servant placed on his side. "Water?! Bring me wine!" The servant took a nervous look at Mythal, who spoke softly but sternly. "You will have wine after you have cooled down."

"Ma falon, what happened?" Sylaise urged, her voice softer than Mythal, and more gentle. The kind of voice that nobody could say no to. Including June.

"Fen'Harel raided another one of my arla'en and freed all my sul'anelan'en!" He grunted, fury lacing every single word from his mouth.

"Ra fen rya ea dinem!" Falon'Din spoke from his usual silence. Which was not surprising, considering that his own house was raided just before June. All his servants freed, even the new ones he paid for.

"Well, I don't see how he can be killed if all you people do is sitting on your aen masa and complaining." Andruil added nonchalantly. Till now, Fen'Harel had raided at least one house of each Evanuris and freed the servants. Each Evanuris except for Mythal, Sylaise and Andruil.

"I will want to see your face when that Dread Wolf finally raid you, rodhair!" Dirthamen hissed in his hair-raising high pitch voice.

"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, lethallin. Because Fen'Harel will never raid my arla'en." Andruil sipped her wine and curled her lips up into a smug smile.

"Of course he will not, because everyone knows the wolf is lying on top of the hunter now!"

"How dare you, Dirthamen!" Andruil slammed her glass down on the table, spilling all its content on the table. "It is none of your business, but I will tell you I have not laid with Fen'Harel! Fen'Harel has not attacked me merely because I treat my people as people! Not some slaves! And you know how the wolf knows? Because I don't chain them up like you do!"

June sneered and defended Dirthamen. "Please, Andruil. You're not above us. You paid for your servants like the rest of us."

"Yes, I paid for them. But I give them dignity. Not take away. I teach them how to hunt in the adahlen. Teach them how to survive. And when their contracts are up, they have the freedom to leave! I don't work them till they die like the rest of you!"

"You and your stupid contracts! You are breaking the tradition! There is a hierarchy in this world. They are servants. And they are born to serve us!"

"Traditions are meant to be changed!"

"But Andruil... we do not change the tradition..." Ghilan'nain muttered.

"One day, this so-called tradition will be our downfall!" Andruil turned and hissed at Ghilan'nain.

"Enough! This is a hahrentuathe meeting, not a tavern!" Mythal finally had enough of all the shouting across the table. And that was indeed enough to send both Dirthamen and Andruil back on their seats. Elgar'nan may be the one chairing the meeting, or even the council, but Mythal has always been the one keeping the order.

Elgar'nan cleared his throat. "Fen'Harel is a problem. But we can't fight this problem if we start to fight among ourselves. For now, just keep your guards up, improve the defense at your arla'en and we'll discuss a retaliation plan in the next meeting."

"Right. We will talk Fen'Harel to his death." Andruil muttered beneath her breath, earning a nudge from Sylaise sitting next to her.


	4. This... is my real power?

"Really, Mythal, I can't see how a pool of stale water can store knowledge." Andruil shrugged as she stood next to Mythal at the edge of a large pool of water. They were at the back of the courtyard in Mythal's new temple.

"It's called the Vir'abelasan." Mythal smiled, her arms folded across her chest as she gazed at their reflections in the water.

"And you call it the Well of Sorrows. Can't you give it a better name, like Well of Happiness? Well of Fun?" Andruil looked up to the afternoon sun, squinting her eyes. "Well of Hot and Sunny?"

"Because da'lan, sometimes knowing more might not necessary make you happier." Mythal smiled and brushed the other elf's hair. "It might just look like a pool of water to you now, I believe this Well will have an important place in history. But this is not the reason for me to send for you."

Mythal held Andruil's hand and led her to the Inner Sanctum. Andruil has always respected the older elven woman. Not merely because she chair the hahrentuathe together with Elgar'nan. Mythal has always been taking care of the younger Evanuris, giving them advises, providing them guidance. Especially Andruil and Sylaise. Though she did not ask for the barrage of complaints from the other Evanuris about Andruil's 'shoot first don't ask question later' attitude and her disregard of tradition.

In the Inner Sanctum, priests were busy putting up mosaic paintings on the walls. Mythal requested them to leave the two of them alone and after the priests have left, she held Andruil's hand in her hands. "Da'lan, a storm is coming our way. This storm will affect everyone, from Evanuris to the common people. Our world will be turned upside down, devastated."

Andruil's ruby orbs gazed at Mythal's amber ones. She could see the streak of worry and sadness in the older woman's eyes, and that was unnerving. If the usually composed Mythal was getting worried, it must be a really bad storm. "What is going to happen, ha'hren?"

Mythal shook her head, her brows knitted, a soft sigh resonated from her lips. "I don't know, da'lan. But I fear for you."

"You don't have to worry about me, ha'hren. Nobody is faster than my arrows."  
"And what if you run out of arrows?"  
"I'll summon my vines."  
"Your vines are too weak. Even Fen'Harel can chew through them."

Andruil widened her eyes. She was more in shock than embarrassed that Mythal has learned of Fen'Harel's narrow escape from her. "How did you..."

"I know everything, da'lan. But I've not asked you here to chide you about Fen'Harel. I need to teach you how to protect yourself using magic."  
"But I'm not a mage. I can only use elemental magic."

Though Andruil is always contemptuous and full of herself, in truth, she has a sense of insecurity hidden away. Besides Elgar'nan who is a warrior, Andril is the only Evanuris who is not a mage. Even Sylaise the Hearthkeeper excels in fire magic besides her usual healing. While all ancient elves could cast at least the basic elemental magic, these are hardly adequate when facing a real mage. And that is what Mythal is concerned with.

"But you have not realised the full power of your elemental magic. And that is what I am going to teach you. Your elemental magic is not just earth. It's binding. This, is what you should be able to do."

Mythal took a step away from Andruil and held out her right hand, palm up. With a deep breath, a red ball of light glowed on her palm. The red light continued to grow until it was larger than her palm, larger than her whole body, enclosing her within. And then with a snap of her fingers, the red ball of light transformed into a translucent red dragon.

Andruil stumbled back, her breath ragged as she looked up to the red dragon. "This... is my real power?"

Mythal's lips curled up into a smirk. "This is just a light show. The real power is in the binding. The ability to control someone's mind."

Then Andruil heard it. "Thud-thud-thud-thud." As the relentless knocking echoed in her head, she thought she heard Mythal saying "Lift your left hand." But Mythal's lips has not moved. Only Andruil's left hand started to.


	5. Three arrows left

"Fenedhis..." Her nose tweaked into a grimace, the smell of burnt skin making her queasy. The smell of burnt skin on her right arm. "Three." She muttered under her ragged breath. The number of golden arrows she had left.

"Andruil, we don't have to do this!" The elven mage dug his staff into the ground, his teeth gritted, his jaws clenched. "Just return my sul'anasha to me."

Ruby irises glared at the mage. Her right arm was so painful it was starting to feel numb. But Andruil was not one to ba ck away from a battle. Not when she was still standing. "I can't even if I want to, Falon'Din. He has disappeared into the adahlen." A smirk tugged at one side of her lips.

"Na delavir rodhair! Do you know how much I've paid for this sul'anasha?" Falon'Din growled, his knuckers white from gripping onto his staff too tight.

"If he's so precious to you, then why let you men drag him to the forest to kill him?" Andruil scoffed. If she had not been hunting in the forest, if she had not caught Falon'Din's men in time, there would have been one more dead soul added to the forest.

"Because he disobeyed me! And it's none of your business!"  
"Well, too bad I saw it! So it became my business!"

With a growl, Falon'Din swirled his staff, sending another fire ball towards the elven woman. But she saw it coming. Andruil pushed her feet off the ground to flip backwards. She held her breath as she felt the fireball grazing pass her face. When she landed, she switched her bow over to her injured right hand and shot an arrow with her left, piercing right into the other elf's shoulder.

Falon'Din stumbled back and raised a firewall between him and the rogue to protect himself from more arrows. "You are not unlike me! You have sul'anasha too! You marked them with your vallaslin too! You don't get to play savior and pretend to have higher moral ground!"

"No! We're different! My people are treated as people, not servant or slave! They work for me, they don't slave for me! Urghhhh! How many times must I say it to make you people understand?!" Her brows furrowed as Andruil gazed at the firewall. She still had two golden arrows. But the firewall will affect both impact and accuracy. And the dull pain on her burnt right arm was getting excruciating. However at the same time, she realised the firewall was blocking Falon'Din's view of her as well.

"Say what you want! You have to pay for this! I will make you pay for this! Ar dalemah na!" Falon'Din grunted in frustration. And he waited. And waited. He could hear his laboured breath and the flickering sound of his firewall burning. But he could not hear the rogue.

""Fenedhis!" With a groan, Falon'Din swirled his staff and extinguished the firewall. He squinted his eyes at the view in front of him. Andruil was nowhere in sight.


	6. Ghilan'nain, come to my house

It was late in the afternoon with the sun casting long shadows. Andruil traipsed blithely among the trees, an arrow twirling in her hand. She has led her arla in the Spring Breaking ritual for the past weeks and finally today, the time is hers. The forest was quiet, except for some occasional yelping of the fennecs and singing of the birds. She was about to find a sturdy branch to take a nap when she heard it. The sound of breath. A ragged breath.

Ghilan'nain could feel the damp in her hands. Gauging from the piercing pain in her wrists, she was certain the damp was her own blood. She heaved a deep exhale and tried to wriggle her hands again. But the rope that tied her to the tree did not seem to intend to loosen up anytime. She screamed, exasperated. "Daurnatha! Ghest! Elvar'nas ghi'myelan! Ar dalemah na!"

"That's going to be difficult, since you seem quite... tied up." Andruil swaggered out of the trees, one corner of her mouth crooning upward to a smirk.

The other elven woman gasped, not expecting to see someone else in this part of the woods. "I'm not talking about you!" Her brows furrowed quickly when she saw the bow and arrows the stranger carried. "Did he send you here to finish me off?"

Andruil stopped in front of Ghilan'nain and rested her right hand on her hip, taking a close observation of the damsel in distress. "Hmm... from the cracked dry skin on your lips and the dampness in your tousled hair, you must have been here for days. From the cuts and bruises on your limbs and leather vest, you must have fought hard before ended up tied to this tree. And you said a hunter did this to you?"

Ghilan'nain was enthralled by the other elf's astute observation. She pored over the woman standing pompously in front of her. She looked different from that hunter indeed. In fact, there was a hint of eminence in the way she carried herself confidently in her subtly embellished leather armor. "Yes... will you free me?"

With a smirk, Andruil made one step closer to the shorter woman. Ghilan'nain took a deep breath, her eyes widened. That was totally unexpected. Grazing her finger down the other woman's cheek, Andruil spoke with a soft teasing voice. "Dirtha em, lethallin. What happened?"

Maybe it was her sultry voice, maybe it was her authoritative tone, or maybe it was actually her soothing hot breath on her face. Ghilan'nain could not stop herself giving in to this woman. "There is this hunter." She swallowed hard to clear her dry throat. "He kills hawks and other birds but he does it for fun, not with respect. He would shoot these birds through their hearts just to prove his skill."

"Salgehsa natha! This is not a hunter! This is a murderer!" Andruil hissed, her other fist clenched till her knuckles were white. She hated it when rogue hunters do not respect the animals.

Ghilan'nain nodded, grateful that Andruil felt the same wrath. "So I tried to stop him. I would follow him secretly and whistle to chase the birds away when he readied his bow. Finally he caught me and tied me here, left me for dead."

"I will find him, and I will kill him in front of you." Andruil groaned while she cut the rope with her knife. Finally freed, Ghilan'nain released a deep exhale and fell on her knees. She was beyond exhaustion, physically and mentally. Andruil knelt down in front of Ghilan'nain and took her hands, brows knitted as she wrapped a small fennec pelt around her wrists, drying the blood. Ghilan'nain gazed intently at the taller elven woman. "Ma serannas. For freeing me. I still do not know your name."

Andruil looked up, her lips curled up into a smile. A gentle smile this time. "I am Andruil. What's yours?"

"My name is Ghilan'nain." Ghilan'nain returned a smile as gentle.

Andruil took a closer look at Ghilan'nain's vest but found no crest. The lack of marking on her clean and delicate visage meant she was not a girem'lan. But she had to ask. "Which arla are you from?"

Ghilan'nain shook her head. "I belong to nobody. I have been by myself since I lost my parents to robbers." She lowered her gaze now, not daring to look at the other woman. A dull ache in her heart choked her breathless as she felt herself worthless.

Andruil lifted Ghilan'nain's chin by her finger, ruby irises meeting emerald ones. This woman was hurt for protecting the animals. It is now her turn to protect her. "Then come to my arla. And you will not be nobody." Ghilan'nain just wrapped her arms around Andruil's neck and nodded. She wanted to say yes but her throat was too dry even though her eyes were too wet.


	7. Luckily I waited long enough

Andruil dragged her feet, meandering languidly on the damp ground, and sometimes through pools of dull nauseating water scattered everywhere. When she was tired and bored of walking, she flopped onto the ground. Leaning against a huge rock and lolling her head back, she stared blankly at the "ground" on the "sky" above her. She still wondered whether it was possible for her to get to that "ground" above, whether she would one day accidentally wandered onto it. Sometimes she wondered whether the ground she was on was actually the inverted one, and she has been walking on the sky all these while.

She shook her head and heaved a sigh as she found her thoughts wandering off again. It was easy to let the mind run away on its own in a place like this. Where there was nothing but rocks and pools of water, where there was this incessant sound of water dripping. Where nobody existed but her. Except for the occasional demons and deepstalkers who accidentally crossed her path and did not live to regret it. And she loved them. Fighting and killing was the only activities that kept her sane.

She still remembered that day when Arlathan tumbled under her feet, when Fen'Harel cast the spell that brought the veil up and trapped everyone behind it. The chaos that swallowed each arla, all the yelling and screaming for help. But those who perished were the fortunate ones. Many who survived were eventually lost in the Beyond. When she woke up from her long slumber and found herself in the Beyond, she was shocked and despaired to see so many losing their minds at first, and then slowly losing their souls, turning into demons.

A gruesome growl broke Andruil's train of thoughts. A Pride Demon stomped over, hurling its claws at her. Andruil leapt backwards, narrowly missing the sharp claws. With a wave of her right hand, she summoned vines that rose from the ground and coiled around the demon's limbs. But her vines would not be strong enough to hold a Pride Demon for long. She pulled back three arrows on her bow and shot at the demon's heart. The arrows pierced through the demon's skin but not deep enough to reach its heart, only enough to make it even more furious. "Fenedhis! If these were my golden arrows you'll be dead by now!" Andruil cursed and drew the dagger from her right boot.

However before she could reach the Pride Demon, a spear flew through the air and pierced through its heart. With an agonizing last growl, the demon fell on its back, motionless after some useless struggle. Andruil gaped at the spear stuck on the demon's chest. She knew that spear. Because it was her spear. The one she crafted using the most exotic flaming ores from the volcano in the far east.

She turned her head towards the direction where the spear flown from and what she saw left her even more speechless, if it was possible. A short and lanky elven woman ran towards Andruil, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Ma raj! I've found you! I've finally found you! And you're alive! I was so worried I'll be too late and you'll be dead by now! Or turned into a demon!"

Andruil allowed the younger elf to blabber and cry on her shoulder while she ruminated whether she was hallucinating. Finally, Ashioin let go of Andruil and took a step back, a flush suffused her cheeks as she bowed. "Ir... ir abelas, ma raj! I was too excited!"

Andruil rested her right hand by her hip and chuckled. She was indeed Ashioin, one of her younger followers with an adorable blabbering habit when she was excited. No demon could imitate that blabbering. "Ashioin, dirtha em. Where have you been and why do you have my spear?"

And so Ashioin sat with Andruil and told her how she was fortunately left outside the veil when Fen'Harel brought it up, how she found Mythal's priests in the Arbor Wilds and pestered them till they revealed how the veil might be opened by some magical power and finally how she found Andruil's fiery spear buried in one of her temple ruins.

"I don't even know whether you'll still be alive after so many thousands of years, but I have to try..." Ashioin wiped the tears off her eyes and exerted a deep exhale. "Thank Arlathan I tried..."

Andruil smiled and brushed the younger elf's damp and tousled hair. "Ma serannas, for trying, da'lan." She has no idea how long was her slumber after the veil was brought up. When she woke up in the Beyond, she tried to count the days, but it was difficult without day and night. "So... thousands of years have passed, huh?"

Ashioin nodded, her heart still pounding lividly, her hands still trembling. She has been wandering aimlessly in the Beyond looking for Andruil, holding on to a thin thread of hope. She tried to draw a map but every rock and pool looked the same. She tried to count the days, but it was difficult without day and night.

Andruil stepped on the Pride Demon's chest and pulled the spear out. She swirled the spear a few rounds over her head, grinning as she felt the familiar grip in her hands. Who would have thought that this spear that she crafted out of vanity would save her life one day. She held her hand out for Ashioin and lifted her back on her feet. "Ashioin, how do we get out now?"

Ashioin grinned. "Just find where the veil is the thinnest and cut through it using the spear, ma raj!"

Andruil chuckled at the quick response. "Luckily I've stayed here long enough to know where the veil is thinnest. And da'lan, stop calling me raj. I'm no longer a leader. Just call me Andruil."

Holding Ashioin's hand, Andruil walked with the younger elf side-by-side on the damp ground, skipping past pools of dull nauseating water at times. Luckily she waited long enough.


	8. These are not the wolf we're looking for

Andruil leaned back on her right leg, her arms crossing her chest, as she gazed at the younger elf in front of her. If it were anyone else, she would have shot an arrow at that person's face. Alright, except for Mythal. But Mythal would not have such outlandish request.

Ghilan'nain clasped her hands below her chin, her eyes blinking innocently, her lips pouted with a hint of desperate. "Sathan, Andruil..."

The huntress heaved a deep sigh. She could not really blame Ghilan'nain for wishing to see Fen'Harel. Despite being a notorious Harellan, many young elves were attracted to his savage yet charming look. A quality he seemed to exploit shamelessly in his recruitment for his freedom warriors. She herself had wanted to tie him to her bed for a year, and was nearly successful if not for the untimely interruption of a Should-be-Forgotten One named Anaris.

"Ghilan'nain, stop begging me." Andruil tried to sound as gruff as she could manage, and schooling her lips into a stern frown.

"Does that mean you'll bring me to see him?" Ghilan'nain's eyes brightened as she stepped closer, her lips curled up into a victorious grin.

Andruil groaned but nodded her head. Shaking off the tight grip the other elf had on her arm, she picked up her bow and arrows. She would not enter the Dread Wolf's camp unarmed, even for a friendly visit.

By the time they reached the base of the mountain near Fen'Harel's camp, the setting sun has been replaced by a lone round moon on the cloudless sky. Andruil dismounted her steed then held out her hands to help Ghilan'nain down. After tying her steed to a tree securely, she glanced back to the younger elf. "Alright. Let's get going."

"Why don't we ride all the way to his camp?"

"Insurance." Andruil's lips curled up into a smug smile. While Fen'Harel was not her enemy, she would not go as far as to say she trusted him.

The initially excited look on the younger elf's face soon faltered as the duo covered more distance in the forest, with Fen'Harel's camp still nowhere in sight. "Are we there yet?" Ghilan'nain mumbled but not daring to slow down her pace and risk been left behind.

"Where did all your excitement go?" Andruil teased, couldn't help tugging a corner of her lips up into a smirk. She could see the outline of the camp in the distance under the moonlight, and was about to turn around to give the other elf the good news when her ears twitched. Andruil stopped abruptly, her left hand readied her bow, her right reaching for an arrow. Not expecting the sudden pause, Ghilan'nain walked into the huntress's back. "Ouch! Why did you..."

"Shh!" Andruil hushed, lowering her stance and scanning the trees surrounding them conscientiously. Then four wolves stepped out of the dark, growling as they closed in slowly. "You said you want to see the Wolf?" The huntress snorted placing an arrow on her bow finger very slowly.

Ghilan'nain frowned and tightened her grip on her staff. "These are not the wolf I'm looking for."

"Now!" Andruil shouted as she released her arrow, flying straight and piercing into an eye of the nearest wolf. As it fell back with a howl, the other three wolves lunged towards the two elves instead of retreating. Ghilan'nain swirled her staff above her head, sending a gust of wind towards the wolves. Her aero spell managed to push the bloodthirsty mammals back a distance, but they quickly dashed towards the duo again, including the half-blinded one.

Three arrows shot out from Andruil's bow, penetrating two bellies and one limb. But the half-blinded one was persistent in striking down its preys. With a deafening growl, it leapt up and dug its teeth into Andruil's bow hand. Screaming with pain, the huntress swung her arm while her other hand reached for an arrow. Ghilan'nain wanted to get to her rescue but she was busy sending more aero spell towards the other wounded wolf which was stumbling back on its feet. Her spell was not strong enough to launch it into the air, but at least together with Andruil's arrow on its limb, the wolf was deterred.

With the arrow in her hand, Andruil stabbed a series of blows into the half-blinded wolf's side, trying to get it off her bleeding forearm. Still, the wolf maintained its bite, although its jaws were getting shaky. "Fenedhis! Get off me!" The curse was hissed out from between clenched teeth as Andruil lifted her leg and kicked the wolf hard on its belly. This time, she managed to loosen its bite and in excruciating pain, Andruil pulled her arm back and out of the wolf's mouth.

Andruil's forearm was bleeding ceaselessly from the bite and she knew it was a matter of time before her left arm become too numb to hold on to her bow. They had to finish the last two standing wolves quickly. A thought streak across her mind and she grabbed two arrows, placing them on her bow. "Ghi'lan, send a strong gust of wind towards them!"

Ghilan'nain nodded and the moment she sent a blast towards the wolves, Andruil released her arrows. With the help of the strong wind, the arrows shot through both wolves' bellies and landed deep into the trees behind. With their final howl, the wolves fell back onto the ground, there after motionless.

With a deep exhale, Andruil dropped onto the ground, lying flat on her back, groaning in her ragged breath. Ghilan'nain quickly knelt by her side and worked her healing spell on the huntress' forearm. "Ir abelas! Ir ir ir ir abelas, Andruil!" Tears welled up in the younger elf's eyes as she blamed herself for putting the huntress' life at risk for the sake of her own curiosity.

"Ghi'lan, you didn't know..." Andruil tried to assure the younger elf she did not blame her but Ghilan'nain was too busy healing her friend and cursing herself to listen to her.

"It's my fault! Why do I have to be so damned curious?"  
"Ghi'lan, listen..."  
"I don't even like that stupid Fen'Harel! Who cares how he looks like!"  
"Ghi'lan!"  
"If anything were to happen to your right hand..."

Andruil gave up stopping Ghilan'nain from blabbering and reached up to snag the younger elf's collar, boldly dragging her down. Ghilan'nain gasped and fell against the huntress as their lips mashed together roughly, almost awkwardly. A muffled squeak escaped her lips as their lips gradually eased and remolded. Moments later, they slowly parted, both catching their breath.

"Shall we go home now and look for Fen'Harel again tomorrow morning?" Andruil smiled, ruby irises gazing at emerald ones hovering above her.

"Who cares about Fen'Harel?" Ghilan'nain smirked, albeit with a crimson shade dusting her cheeks.


	9. It's my job to fight, and yours to protect

Andruil placed her hand on the hidden stone on the wall. The secret door slid swiftly, opening the way to the Inner Sanctum. She walked into the hall as quietly as she could, placing more weight on her left leg so that she would not exacerbate the wound on her right thigh. She was a concoction of exhaustion, blood and annoyance, but something way more important on her mind pushed her feet forward.

The temple was quiet and vacant. She assumed the priests had all retired for the night, which was to her delight because she was not in a chatting mood. It was a few more steps into the sanctum that Andruil began to feel that creeping sensation on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her. She hardly had time to register the thought before she heard the familiar voice closely behind her. "Andruil."

Andruil jumped and cursed herself for being startled. Her rogue sense should have warned of his presence way before he got so close to her. Perhaps she was in a worse shape than she thought. She turned around to face a bald Elven man dressed in a priest robe. "Athras. You really live up to your name tonight huh?"

Before Athras could answer, Andruil fell onto him, her arms wrapping languidly around his hips. Her body was cold after walking through the dense and humid Arbor Wilds. She couldn't risk using the eluvian to transport her straight to the vir'abelasan in case Fen'Harel or any of the other enemy Evanuris were on her tail. At least through the forest, she could easily pick up the sight or sound of any stalker. Feeling the comfort in Athras' warm body now, she knew at least the long walk was worth it.

"Are you hurt?" Athras asked, looking at how bloody her armor was, hoping her answer would not be what he assumed, that those blood belonged to her enemies.

"I'm fine." Andruil muttered softly as Athras held her waist, though her hisses said otherwise on his hands' contact. "Mostly fine."

"Of course you are." Athras sighed and held Andruil by her shoulders, casing her from her face to her feet. The wound on her exposed right thigh was obvious but that could not be the only reason Andruil could not stand straight. Gently he brought her over to a platform and sat her down. Kneeling in front of her, he took a closer look at her with an impassive tone. "Andruil, I'm going to undress you now."

Andruil chuckled softly and leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. "You know you don't have to ask, ma lath."

"Andruil, sathan..." Athras tried his best to ignore her sultry half-opened eyes and began to untie her pauldrons. After he removed her leather armor, he found the source of her pain. A hastily bandaged wound at her side.

"An arrow wound. Hardly anything at all." Yet Andruil winced as Athras unwrapped the bandage slowly.

"Right. The Huntress could never be shot." Athras snorted but Andruil effectively stopped him from continuing any further by pressing her lips over his. He parted his lips, allowing entrance for Andruil, with a soft groan. Andruil knew he missed her as much as she missed him, but she needed this kiss to assure herself. In fact she needed more from him now but the heat emanating from her entire body was too distracting. Athras pulled back from the kiss and cupped her cheek with his left hand, exhaling in trepidation. She was hot and perspiring. The telltale signs of infection were too apparent to be ignored.

Athras unwrapped her bandage and stared at the purplish color surrounding her red and still bleeding wound, his brows knitted. "I need to clean your wound. I think you've been poisoned."

By the time Athras finished casting his healing spell over her wound and re-wrapped her bandage, Andruil has already fallen asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she found herself in his bed, alone. Andruil was lifting the extra large tunic to look at her bandage when Athras walked in with a tray of breakfast in his hands.

"On dhea." He placed the tray on the side of the bed and sat next to her, placing his palm on her forehead. "I see your fever has subsided."

"All thanks to you." Andruil smiled, planting a kiss on his lips.

"How bad is the war now?"  
"It's worse. Now that Mythal is... Ir abelas, Athras."

Athras just shook his head. He has heard the bad news even before Andruil arrived.

"Come with me, Athras. Fight with me, kill those daurnatha who betrayed Mythal."  
"You know I want to, Andruil. But... I can't. Especially now that Mythal is... gone. I need to protect her temple, protect the vir'abelasan."

A deep exhale resonated from Andruil's lips. Deep inside, she knew his answer. But she just had to hear it from him. Athras held her hand in his and leaned in to kiss her lips gently. "Or you can stay here with me."

She would love to. To hide in this temple deep inside the valley, far away from the endless meaningless war. But she couldn't. She couldn't leave her people behind. People who were fighting by her side. She had to return to her camp, and continue fighting.

Tears welled up in her eyes as it was her turn to shook her head.

"I should go, ma lath. I just wanted to... need to see you again."  
"But I might never see you again."

Andruil stood up from the bed, releasing her hand from his. She picked up her armor and wore it over his tunic. When she turned to face him again, her tears were dried. "We all have a job to do, ma lath. Mine is to continue fighting my battles, and yours is to stay here and protect what Mythal has left the world."

"Dar'atisha, Andruil." Athras pulled her into a hug and kissed her for the last time.

After Andruil left, Athras gathered the rest of the priests in the Hall of Shrines. "Lethallin'en, from now on, it is our job to protect this temple and the vir'abelasan. We will enter Uthenera and awake when there are intruders. And for entering this place, their punishment is death." He exerted a deep exhale before continuing. "Lastly, from now on, my name shall be Abelas."


	10. I bought you but you're not my slave

Her brows tightly knitted together as she walked through the crowd in the marketplace with Mythal. Andruil was not the city kind. She belonged to the forest, to the waterfall, to the plains. She could sleep with the sound of crickets chirping and wolves howling. But she was already having a headache hustling through the people haggling over prices at the stalls.

When they finally reached the plaza, Andruil heaved a deep exhale of relief. Though the plaza was not vacant. All sorts of people assembled around the stage in the center. But they were a different crowd from the marketplace. People with deeper pockets. Merchants, mages and representatives for some of the Evanuris. She spotted one of Falon'Din's men, recognized by the vallaslin on his face.

"Let's move to the front, shall we?" Mythal held her hand and led her to the front of the crowd, facing the stage. She turned to Andruil, her voice softened so that she would not be heard among the crowd. "The auction should be starting soon. Are you ready, da'lan?"

Was she ready? Andruil furrowed her brows. This was her first slave auction. How was she supposed to prepare herself for it? How was she supposed to view people as products, like the Elven woman in the marketplace haggling over the price of a bunch of rashvines?

Sensing the young Evanuris' uneasiness, Mythal placed Andruil's hand in hers. "Da'lan, I know this is going to be difficult, especially for your first time. These slaves. You would think they are people too, how can you buy them. But think of it this way. If you buy the slave, it is up to you to alleviate their pain, treat them with respect. Like a worker, or a soldier, a hunter for your case. Give them a better life rather than to be a real slave working day and night in a mine for one of those merchants."

"Like the servants that serve you in your arla." Andruil nodded, trying to wrap her head around the idea of buying a person. She has seen how Mythal treated her subjects with respect. She could do that. But... "But hahren, why don't we abolish this archaic slavery trade totally?"

Mythal shook her head and smiled with regret. "You think the Hahrentuathe will vote for it? You think Elgar'nan will approve it? Sadly, nobody is ready to change a tradition, or even worse, shake the economy by obsoleting the slavery trade, denying all these money flow."

At that moment, a ram horn sounded and the auction started. Elven men and women in tattered clothing were led onto the stage, their hands chained. Andruil couldn't help ruminating where did these slave merchants find their slaves. Were they homeless? Or were they forcefully kidnapped?

The auctioneer opened the auction by dragging the first man to the center of the stage. He held the man's shoulders and turned him around in a full circle, describing how sturdy his muscles were and how he would be suitable as a strong worker in a mine or on the field. The man's eyes were staring at the crowd but Andruil could not find any life in them. "Eight hundred gold!" Almost immediately after the auctioneer announced the starting bid, shouts were heard from the crowd, offering higher and higher bids.

Andruil merely stared at the stage as the slaves were sold to different owners in the crowd. Though she noted that Falon'Din's man alone bought five slaves. She was overwhelmed and the truth was she really couldn't bring herself to place a price tag on a person. "He will be a good hunter to assist you." Mythal interrupted her train of thought as a lanky Elven man was brought to the front of the stage.

She looked at the man. Mythal was right. He looked bony but there was some lightness in his feet when he turned; his fingers were long, suitable for mastering a bow. "Five hundred gold!" The auctioneer announced. Andruil bit her lower lip and looked at Mythal, who nodded at her.

"Six hundred!" Andruil shouted.


	11. Give me your power, my earth seraph. I'll give you my body as your vessel

Seraphim are a kind of spirits. Only that they are linked to natural elements. Unlike spirits like Compassion, Justice, Purpose and Valor that roam the Fade, they travel in the living world freely. She has never imagined she would meet a seraph, never heard of their existence till she met one actually. And of the four elements, an earth seraph. If this is not fate, she doesn't know what is.

By chance. She thought they met by chance when she traveled into the unknown lands, searching for allies who would fight for her cause, assist her in her mission of tearing down the veil and returning freedom to her people. She still had no clue how Fen'Harel's veil could be brought down. But it didn't hurt to recruit all the allies she could find.

Andruil felt a sense of familiarity, a pull towards him the moment they met. Perhaps because she was born with the elemental magic of the earth. Or she was merely attracted to his strong yet shy personality.

Just a fling. When she invited Eizen back to Skyhold, to the tavern she stayed, when the lightweight got drunk and ended up on her bed, she thought it was just a fling. Another night of pleasure she would share with a random stranger and move on from there.

Andruil still wore the pendant that Athras gave her the night before she left to lead her house in the civil war. She has not heard any news about him ever since she woke up from her long slumber and escaped through the veil. She heard the Inquisitor met some sentinels in Mythal's old temple but nobody by the name of Athras. Perhaps he perished with Mythal's temple when it was under attack. Perhaps he has entered Uthenera. Perhaps he has walked into the vir'abelasan to join his brethren. Andruil was a pragmatic person. She knew she had to move on. But that doesn't mean she would forget.

An unexpected visit. After Eizen left the tavern, she thought she would never see him again. He proved her wrong by appearing in her room one night. He has been waiting for her, waiting to ask her one question. "Do you wish me to stay by your side?" A question she thought nobody would ever ask her. She still remembered how Athras shook his head when she asked him to leave the temple and go with her.

But Eizen needed a vessel if he were to stay. The earth seraph had walked the world for a long time, probably even longer than her. Malevolence once turned him into a dragon and innocences were killed. He might have been purified and saved by a shepherd, but that doesn't guarantee he would not be tainted and turned into a dragon again.

"I will stay by your side but I will not take the chance of getting corrupted by malevolence again. I need a vessel." The earth seraph gazed at her ruby irises, telling her his only request.

"What is a vessel?"  
"Something I can have a connection to. Like a person."

"Like me." She muttered almost inaudibly.  
"Like you." The earth seraph nodded.

Eizen waited for the next few days. Waiting for her answer.

Being someone's vessel is an intimate act. She doesn't care for the physical intimacy. They have after all shared a bed. What she fear is the mental intimacy. Eizen would be in her mind. See everything she sees, hear everything she hears, feel everything she feels. He was asking her to commit to this mental intimacy. Something that Andruil doesn't do.

She was never someone who shares secrets, who exposes her feeling. Unless it was anger. The only man she ever shared with is now nowhere to be found. Is she ready to share with another man?

Still, Eizen waited for her in Skyhold. Waiting for her decision.

Her answer. She thought she can't be doing this for someone she met by chance and had a fling. But here she is, standing in front of the man who gave her an unexpected visit, and she is going to give him her answer.

"Give me your power, my earth seraph. I'll give you my body as your vessel." She gazed intently at his eyes.

"Then thou shalt call me by my true name. Say it with me, loud and clear." He took a deep breath. "Draco Cor Ferrum."


	12. Maybe his edhis is monument size too

"How huge does your ego has to be to create such a gigantic monument of yourself?" Andruil sneered and shook her head. She would spit if Mythal was not standing next to her. They were standing on the top of a hill, watching the people erect a monument commemorating Elgar'nan's victory over Falon'Din and him being "first among the gods".

"I have to choose the lesser of two evils, da'lan." Mythal gazed intently at the monument. Her tone was stern, her visage impassive.

"But how many slaves were used to make this ridiculous thing? How many lost their limbs and how many died? And all this thing does is inflate Elgar'nan's oversized ego even further!" And for a race which used months and years to complete a ritual, she could not fathom why this monument had to be completed within a day. An afternoon to be precise.

"It's either this or a war. How many do you think will perish in a war among the Evanuris?"

Andruil bit her lower lip. She knew Mythal was right. If a war shall start among Elgar'nan and Falon'Din's houses, the collateral damage will be unimaginable. And one small war might lead to an even larger uncontrollable war. "Well, at least we're lucky that Elgar'nan's champion won the duel. A humongous brooding Falon'Din overlooking the city would be repulsive."

"Andruil." Mythal heaved a sigh. "I hope you're not thinking about teasing Falon'Din in the next hahrentuathe meeting."

Actually that was exactly what she was planning to do. Well, another time then.

"Seriously, hahren, how do you even stand Elgar'nan? Unless his edhis is monument size too."  
"Andruil!"


	13. You found... Athras?

Haleir was waiting for her in the Inner Sanctum of her temple, his brows furrowed.

"Oh lighten up, Haleir, that elgar is safe." Andruil teased. But she would not go as far as telling him she is now a vessel for Eizen. That would definitely shake his world up.

Haleir merely smiled and led her to sit on a platform. "Would you like a drink, ma raj?" Andruil quirked an eyebrow. It was never a good sign when her men offered her drinks before a discussion. Her smirk faltered as she sat on the platform. "Dirtha em, Haleir. What is it? Did our men find anything in the Eluvian network?"

Haleir shook his head and handed her a bottle of whiskey before sitting on the ground below the platform. "We couldn't get through to the network. Fen'Harel has locked the whole network. Our Eluvian in the tree only led us to a crossroad of dead Eluvians." She cursed and drank directly from the bottle. The last time that she traveled with the Wolf, she suspected that he has already regained a huge part of the Eluvian network. She just didn't expect that part to be almost all Eluvians. Without the access to the network, her Eluvian in the temple was as good as dead.

Haleir continued, a certain calmness observed in his tone. "But not all hope is lose, ma raj. His agents might move about through the Eluvians, but their viraju has to be done outside the Eluvians. In the adahlen, in the mor'vharla. It will take time for our people to track them down, but it is not impossible."

He was right. The Eluvian network was just a form of transportation, the ability to move about without attracting attention. But if they knew where to look, they could still find Fen'Harel's agents and spy on them. "Fen'Harel will definitely place some agents among the Inquisition and in the heart of major political cities. We could start with Skyhold, Val Royeaux and Redcliffe." Haleir nodded in agreement.

While she has agreed to work with him on removing the veil and bringing their people back, Andruil would not trust the Wolf wholeheartedly, would not let him have all the power to himself. And after the last incident when his agents followed them to her temple, she was very confident he would not trust her totally as well.

"Raj, there is one more thing." Haleir cleared his throat and continued with caution underlying his tone. "We found Athras."

Andruil's ears twitched upon hearing that name. The name which has haunted her thousand of years. Her heart rate started to take off on its own, perspire gathered in her palms. They have found Athras.

"Is he still... alive?" She was not surprised to hear the tremble in her voice. They have found Athras. What if he was found dead, dead a thousand years ago? But what if he was still alive? She held her hand to her chest, wanted to hold on to the necklace, only to remember she was no longer wearing it. Not after she took it off in front of Eizen.

Haleir nodded slowly. "He is. But he has changed his melin. He is now Abelas."


End file.
